Hello~
Here comes another rant. *sigh*
I don't hate my mom anymore, but there are times when I get really mad at her, and honestly, I always remember the bad stuff that happened, or her bad traits.
I wanted to call in sick, but as the coward I am, I was about to make my mom call in for me. She told me to do it myself, and I was like: "Welp, I tried." But then she goes on and on about responsibility and how I shouldn't have said yes ('cause I wasn't supposed to work today), but to be fair:
1. I didn't know my period was coming.
Yeah, that's it. Girls, you get me. When you have your period, you wanna be in your happy place, not exactly working. And sometimes, there's no way around it, but I was called in to be an extra, and I literally got it last night, so ya.
So I got irritated. Now here's the thing, when I get irritated, I think I'm pretty tolerable, because I don't talk when I get mad? Well, I guess that's irritating in it's own way, but I don't talk because I don't like saying stuff that I don't mean. You know, the old: "I hate you" or "You piece of sh*t", stuff like that. But, I guess that doesn't stop my mom, so I told her to "stop talking". It was the only thing that came to mind, and the more she talks, the more she makes me mad, so yeah.
And now, here's where my mom gets BM. Well, sometimes, she just outright insults you, but sometimes, she tries to guilt trip me? AND THAT JUST IRRITATES ME. A LOT.
"I always cook for you, pay bills, have a house for you... yada yada yada"
See, some of this are lies? She pays for groceries. My dad pays for the rest. I'm not lying, I found out a while ago. My dad isn't poor, but he has a lot less money due to this system. Maybe at first, yes, they split the bills. But now? My dad pays for everything. As for have a house... well, I guess that's a great thing. But need I remind you that I hated living here at some point? And not because I didn't get what I wanted, but because you and dad SUCKED AT BEING PARENTS. You might know how to make people happy with money, but other than that, no. I'm sorry, but years of calling me useless, saying I should die, and "I think I'd be happier if you weren't born" isn't exactly emotionally uplifting.
And it's not like I was this really angst-y kid as I grew up. My friends, from high school on, were the best things I could've had. And... they gave me hope. Hope that you guys weren't horrible, that you still loved me. "When parents are mad, they say things that they don't mean", "They love you, they just suck at showing it". And I actually believed them. People always told me that my life must have been wonderful, since I always smiled. I smiled all the time, because I always looked on the bright side before.
But I think those days, at least for now, became really cloudy. I would call it... the summer of 2015. Where everything went wrong. It was at this time that I had summer school, and I didn't know how to explain it, so I just said that school was still going on. And it was also the time I thought I was going to get a job, but I didn't in the end, so I went back to days of searching for one. But I couldn't get one, so here came days of getting yelled at everyday.
Yelled at for not getting a job, for being lazy and incompetent. So I started just going out all the time, sometimes I went job hunting, other times, I went to see my boyfriend. That was my version of running away I guess. I don't know. I was just tired of crying all the time. We looked for jobs together too, but it didn't work. When I got home, I obviously got screamed at some more, and well, it was a repeat of all that.
Oh yeah, I also got called fat all the time. It got to me. My friends kept trying to reassure me, but I wouldn't listen. Well now, I'm trying to be more healthy. I think it's working? Iunno haha. It's better than me starving myself again I guess.
When I got a job, the one my mom kinda gave me, I was happy at first. But my mom called me fat, in front of everyone. That's when I got mad again. Later on, the job got worse for me, and I wanted to quit, but alas and alack. Shall I tell you the rest? I. Got. Yelled. At.
You'd think that if I said: "This job doesn't let me have enough hours to concentrate on school", my dad wouldn't get mad right? Oh boy, was I wrong. Called lazy again, I was forced hold it all in, and just live my life every day. At some point, I started crying every day, because I was so stressed. The night before I had my breakdown, I went to my sister, to try to help me quit my job. But it was late at night, and she told me that she wasn't thinking straight at the time, but she yelled at me too, for trying to quit.
When I worked the next day, I cried at every moment I could. I didn't want to do this anymore. When I got back in my car, my dad drives me home btw. I made no sounds, and he just drove me. When I got back home, I went into my room, and I cried and cried and cried.
I still don't like it there, but it got better. And I work a lot less now, so that's good.
But I still cry every so often. Sometimes, it's as if my emotions run me over, and I have to cry. I cried on the bus a lot actually. Not loudly, but yeah. Someone asked me if I was okay once. That was nice. I cried at school, on breaks or in class.
So when I hear stuff like: "Mom cried today".
I. Don't. Care.
I've said sorry lots of times to her before. For being stupid, for being rude, for doing lots of stuff. I only got one sorry recently.
She lost her family to the war? Well, that is sad. And there's no bright side to this.
But I'm also sad. But I guess my sadness is less significant, so it's okay to ignore it... right?
Alice Lieberg
